Page 74 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
I let him fall from my mouth, shooting a naughty smile up at him. “That was kind of the point,” I say in a sexy whisper.
“The point is I need to be inside you, and I need it now.”
Lust swirls in my veins, and the ache between my legs intensifies.
An ache he’s going to soothe in seconds.
He yanks up his jeans, scoops me into his arms, and carries me to his bedroom.
In seconds, our clothes are off, and he grabs a condom from the nightstand, then pulls me into his lap on the bed. He slides a hand between my legs.
“Holden,” I murmur as he strokes me, his fingers sliding through the slick heat.
“You’re so wet,” he says, mesmerized as he rubs.
“You turn me on so much,” I whisper.
He grips his cock, slides his hand down his length, then says, “You do the same to me.”
I tremble, pleasure rushing all over my body as his fingers glide between my legs in sync with his moans, like he’s discovering a new land.
I arch my back, my hips rolling. “God, please, please fuck me. Please make love to me.”
“It’s both. It’s absolutely both.” His grin goes crooked as he stops, rolls the condom down his length, then pulls me on top of him, arranging my legs around his hips so I’m sitting in his lap.
Like lotus lovers.
He pushes into me.
“Oh God,” I gasp as I rope my arms tighter around his neck.
I’m so aroused, so ready, as he fills me in one tantalizing move.
We’re here.
Together again.
His hands travel to my ass, and he tugs me even closer as he goes deep into me.
We become a blur of breath and limbs and heat, of bodies moving, pressing, tangling together.
I rock with him, the friction driving me wild.
His hands are everywhere.
My hair, my breasts, my hips. Like he can’t settle down, can’t decide which part of me to traverse next.
But I know where I want him.
I guide his hand between my legs, where I need him.
“Touch me,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he grunts, as his fingers stroke my clit, as his cock drives into me, as our shuddery breaths fill the air.
He rocks and strokes, and my mind melts.
My bones liquefy.
Pleasure tightens inside me, coils, then explodes as I fall to pieces on him, with him, for him.
Seconds later, he’s growling and grunting and joining me on the other side of bliss.
We’re quiet for a bit, just panting and breathing, our arms wrapped tight around each other as our bodies seek the sheen of each other’s skin. As we can’t seem to let go.
He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my throat, worshipping my skin like he’s adoring me after sex.
And I feel cherished.
I have no benchmark, no comparison. But I know intrinsically that this is how intimacy should be—trusting, loving, wanting.
Full of wonder, full of tenderness, he looks at me, his eyes all dreamy. “What am I going to do with you?”
It’s a valid question. “I could ask the same about you.”
He strokes my cheek, his green gaze holding mine, his eyes full of passion, but something more.
It’s not just physical.
It’s never just been physical between the two of us. Not since the very first day we met.
“I mean it, Reese. I’m crazy for you.”
My heart thunders. “It’s just the sex talking,” I joke. Right now, that’s easier than facing the enormity of what’s happening between us.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. It’s not just sex for me. Say it isn’t just sex for you.” He sounds desperate, needy.
I shiver, a tremble that sparks the possibility of deep and potent joy.
But that joy is tempered by the fact that we’re here in this apartment, behind closed doors. I’m feeling this thing between us, but I want to give him the time and space to figure out what to do and say. “Yeah,” I say, sounding dopey with happiness. “I’m kind of crazy for you too.”
He cups my cheeks, presses his forehead to mine. “I’m falling for you.”
My heart flaps its wings and flies high up into the night sky. “I’m falling for you too.”
We kiss until his stomach growls.
I laugh as we break apart. “I guess sex worked up your appetite.”
“Seems it did.”
This time, I play après-sex chef. I make him a sandwich and take a few bites too, before we get back in bed.
I drag a hand down the ladder of his firm abs, my fingers making their way to his happy trail. “Now, let me take my turn all the way.”
“Like I could ever deny you,” he says in a naughty whisper.
I finish what I started earlier, taking him in my mouth, savoring the taste, drinking him down.
After that, he grabs my hips, drags me up his body, and gives me an order. “Now sit on my face and fuck my mouth.”
I shudder, knowing it won’t take me long, not with those dirty words, not with the commands he gives me as I sit on his face and rock my hips against him, moaning and groaning and obliging.
